Sweeter Than Lies
by The-Last-Flower
Summary: I should have noticed. The first pang within my chest should have been a warning. I lied to myself. I refused to acknowledge the longing I felt. How vulgar it was. Coarse. Disgusting. Nauseating. Repulsive.It was a never ending list.The words that described the yearning I felt for Thor.Unnatural…to feel such a want towards one's kin.It should have been the first sign.


_**Sweeter Than Lies.**_

…

'_Brothers.'_

The word spat like venom from thin lips.

'_Brothers—'_

I choked out painful, as if the word itself would kill the speaker.

'_BROTHERS!'_

I hissed the word. It tasted of foulness, bitterness, bile, hate, spite, and anger.

'_**BROTHERS!'**_

The lie left my lips one last time. I silenced it with the swipe of my arm, sending glass bottles of ink crashing to the floor. The glass shattered tinkling and chiming softly like the desperate patter of rain fall.

The shards glittered like diamonds amongst coal. I would never be a shining diamond; I would always be black as coal. Useful. Yes. Beautiful, Wanted, and Desirable... No.

I hated myself so.

How pitiful and disgusting I had become.

A monster.

The ink pooled at my feet. Warm and thick like blood.

I laughed at the sight. A cruel laugh… one without mirth. The humor wasn't lost on me. Oh no, this was what I thrived on. Such irony.

The ink staining my toes blue.

My true colors were beginning to show.

…

Lies.

I knew them better than anyone else.

They rolled off my tongue as easy as a summer breeze.

Tasting of heaven. Soft. Smooth. Sweet. Velvety.

Lies.

I could not stop them.

They flowed freely from my silver-tongue.

And, if I was honest with myself—and even I held some honesty within my hopeless soul—I would admit I did not always mean to speak them.

They came to me so easily.

And I loved the mischief they caused.

The icy thrill that ran up my spine.

Lies.

I was the God of them after all—_was I not?_

_Lies._

How I hated them.

I had never hated them more.

_**Lies.**_

I could smell them.

I could taste them.

I could sniff them out better than any other.

The aroma of dandelions and apples.

How could I not have noticed?

**LIES.**

_How could I not have noticed?_

It was all so clear now, the stilling of the waves across a stream.

The differences between our hands.

One so large, skin darkened to the color of golden honey. Short squared fingers. Blunt round finger nails. Large dominant knuckles and the powerful sturdy muscles that lay beneath.

And the other? So small in comparison. Pale as the moonlight and as cool as the snow. Long fingers. Thin elegant wrists. Translucent skin. Blue veins that pulsed hauntingly beneath the surface.

It was so obvious.

Except perhaps to one who willed blindness.

_**LIES!**_

I had been fooled most cleverly by something I knew best.

…..

We had been raised as brothers,

Every meaning of the word.

Always together.

We played as brothers.

Fought as brothers.

Cried as brothers.

Laughed as brothers.

Scraped knees. Bruised elbows. Tears that melded together. Strong arms wrapped around thin knobby shoulders. Giggles that fluttered out of mouths as naturally as a butterfly's wings.

We shared everything.

_Secrets._

Whispered low and soft into the black night, so that only our ears could hear.

_Stories._

Of adventure and glorious deeds.

_Fears._

Of the cold monsters that haunted the darkest recesses of our minds.

Little could we have known one was so close.

Closer than we ever could have imagined.

…

I should have been more honest.

I should not have been as blind.

Denial.

What a vicious creature it was.

It was lain out in front of me. Like a map. I could see it all now. Every small detail.

How mad must I truly be?

To refuse to see,

The disparity.

I was not one of them.

_I never was._

I should have noticed.

The first pang within my chest should have been a warning.

I lied to myself.

I refused to acknowledge the longing I felt.

How vulgar it was.

Coarse. Disgusting. Nauseating. Repulsive.

It was a never ending list.

The words that described the yearning I felt for Thor.

Unnatural… to feel such a want towards one's kin.

It should have been the first sign.

…

As a child the snow had never excited me more.

The way it flurried.

The white puffs that stood no chance. At least not on their own. Descending towards the green grass. And when finally they reached their destination they became whole. Something with grander purpose. Something that spread out as far as my eyes could see.

How I wished I could be so important.

Something so small yet so very large.

Endless.

I felt one with the snow.

I loved to roll in the downy softness.

So comfortable against my skin.

The merriment I felt.

Winter was my favorite season.

Summer was all too blistering hot.

Lying in the snow as Thor complained of the chill that slowly seeped into his bones.

How willfully opaque could one man be?

…..

Why had Odin done it?

Stolen Laufey's bastard child.

Why?

I had dreamed of having meaning, but none such as this.

Even as my father—lies! Odin was never my father—spoke the truth of my birth; I wished the words would fall on deaf ears.

But I was all too aware the meaning that deep resounding voice carried.

The abandoned child of a frost giant.

Left to die.

Unwanted, for I was born so small.

A shame to a race of beasts.

My only saving grace?—Odin believed he may have _use of me_.

A relic in a vault.

A prisoner of lies and fate.

How superfluous I felt.

A monster.

Disgusting.

Everything I feared.

Everything I dreaded.

The tears stung my eyes.

….

I pulled out a shard of glass embedded deep within my skin.

A groan whispered through drawn teeth.

A dull burn spread through the sole of my foot.

I slid down the wall of my chambers with a distraught whimper.

How pathetic I had become.

I dropped the shard amongst the ink, watching droplets splatter like blood on the battlefield.

Eyes green and weary,

Long fingers reaching out to capture the blue liquid.

Droplets leaving round tattoos.

I spread them out, painting my arm blue.

_Disgusting!_

I dropped my head to the ground,

The ink and glass tickling my forehead.

I fisted ebony locks, and pulled until my scalp throbbed with pain.

It was better than the emptiness that swelled within.

I screamed.

How so much could change in one day.

….

_We should have never gone to Jotunheim._

…

I had not meant for any of this to happen.

I never wanted Thor banished.

I loved him so.

More than any other.

I wished him by my side always.

I never wanted to face the reality of my birth.

I wished for blissful unawareness.

But my games, my lies, my mischief had all backfired.

…

My plan wasn't formed out of cruelness.

No, it was simple and true.

Thor was not ready to be king.

I hated to admit it,

But the one I loved was foolish, arrogant, and selfish.

Not the qualities of a king.

It was simple.

A few frost giants would invade Asgard.

Disrupt the coronation.

The kingdom would be saved from his impudent rule a while longer,

Giving him the proper time he needed to mature.

It had all gone wrong.

How could something so simple, _turn out wrong_?

….

Tears pooled on the surface of the ink, marbling into an array of blues.

I clawed,

Willing the shame and tears to leave.

Tinting skin evermore.

I wanted Thor.

Would he wipe away my tears and squeeze thin shoulder, in comfort, even after discovering my true origins?

Like when we were children,

So innocent and unaware.

But all that was gone now, washed away by harsh truths.

How alone I felt.

But even with Thor at my side, I was always alone.

How could I feel such love and anger at the same time?

I loathed him for bringing us to Jotunheim.

I loathed myself even more for following.

I always followed.

I could never say no to his pleading eyes,

As hot as the summer sky.

Heat and lust pooled within my stomach as I recalled the only time those eyes had ever looked at me with want.

…..

Thor had kissed me once.

Drunk on mead and bloodshed from a battle mere hours before.

I never forgot,

Even though centuries had passed,

I never would.

His legs weak with alcohol and exhaustion,

I had helped him to his room.

A long tan muscled arm around me for support.

How nice it felt.

To be touched by something so warm.

How quick it happened.

Oh so, quick.

Too quick.

Faster than the days of Midgard.

I wished it would have lasted forever.

Forever—a long time for Gods.

His hands on my shoulders almost painful,

Pushing me against a wall, causing the breath to leave my lungs.

When the air returned, I managed to hiss with false disdain, 'What do you think you are doing?'

I always held my head high in the company of others.

I believed it a strength, but I knew it a weakness.

He didn't answer, blue eyes hazed with drink and passion.

It was that moment I realized what was happening.

I should have fought it.

I should have fought harder.

The shame of the moment would live on in my soul forever.

I knew now that shame held no purpose.

The pain Odin could have saved, the years of disgraceful longing.

'Thor!' I whispered softly. 'Someone **will **see.'

I reached out a hand to touch the hard chest in front of me.

So hot beneath my grasp.

The steady drum of his strong heart against my palm.

He swayed closer, his breath moist against my cheek.

'_Please!_' I whined softly, my voice barely audible over the blood in my ears.

I knew not what I begged for.

His mouth covered mine, silencing any further pleas.

_WRONG!_

But I could not stop it.

It haunted my dreams.

The ignominy would forever beat in my heart for I knew I wanted this enough to live with it.

I knew not if Thor was aware of whose lips he kissed.

I was uncaring.

I kissed him back desperately.

It was the first and only time I had ever been kissed.

I whimpered shamefully as he coaxed my lips open.

Tongues meeting. Mating. Dancing.

His hands on my hips pulling me closer.

Bruising.

I wrapped thin arms around his neck, tracing the contours of muscles, marveling at the strength,

Stroking the soft lengths of wheat colored hair.

He tasted of mead, heat, battle, passion, and forbidden fruit.

We pulled away both panting and breathless.

My skin tingled.

My mind reeled with self disgust.

How further down this road was I willing to go?

For the thing I coveted most.

He grabbed my hand beckoning and pulling me towards his room.

I knew the answer.

I followed Thor.

I always followed Thor.

_How weak I was._

….

When it was finished I lay awake unsure of what to feel.

The warmth of body at my side.

The slick velvet of furs against naked skin.

I stared at the ceiling.

My body felt slightly sore.

Used.

Albeit not in a horrible way.

I rolled over to face his tanned broad back.

I traced the long line of the spine.

I leaned over and kissed the sharp point of his stubbled jaw, I had always wanted to.

It would be my only chance.

Pulling away I muffled a sob.

Thor lay sleeping.

Slumbering away a mix of post-coital bliss, drink, and battle.

I had to leave before he awoke.

He would not be sullied.

Thor was to be king.

He always protected me.

And this was one small way I could protect him.

Such slander of incest could not mark the name of a would-be ruler.

I stood and dressed,

Leaving the room without looking back.

….

I would always remember.

And for a while the bruises my lover left were a constant souvenir.

Over time the bruises faded.

But the memory of that night did not.

Remembered with an ounce of inexplicable joy and a pound of profound self abhorrence.

But Thor forgot.

As I expected he would.

Thor forgot.

As drink and time often caused.

….

I smeared blue across my chest with ink covered fingers.

Even now the memory of that night caused my blood to flame.

But the events of the day eased shame of many years.

How pointless my suffering was.

We were not brothers.

_We never were._

My shoulders felt lighter.

Yet still my soul remained heavy.

The previous shame lessened, only to be replaced with repugnance at my true nature.

I looked down at the false blue that covered pale skin.

I was a Jotun.

How I hated myself.

…..

Thor wanted to invade Jotunheim.

I should have known.

I tried to talk him out of it.

I pleaded.

And like most of my pleas they fell upon uncaring ears.

I should have known.

The invasion of Asgard would get the better of Thor's temper.

That my easily angered brother would seek revenge.

Thor wanted to go to Jotunheim.

And so we would go to Jotunheim.

I wished I had known what lay ahead.

….

I would remember the day that came as undeniably one of the worst.

The fear upon reaching the barren land of frost.

The fear upon seeing the dreaded Jotuns.

Skin so blue. Eyes as rich as rubies. Patterns tattooed deep within their leathery skin.

Their voice carried icily on the wind; a frightening sharp gravel that made my throat tighten with unease.

And Laufey.

Perhaps the most terrifying of all.

King of the Jotuns.

And my father.

If I had known of my origins then, what would I have done?

I was unsure.

How unsettling that was.

I was never unsure.

Every movement calculated.

I supposed I was lucky at the time,

Never having to calculate such a problem.

I had remained ignorant of the monster crawling beneath the surface of my skin.

My only calculation?

_Thor._

Leaving before he caused any damage.

He brushed off my concern with a harsh jar of his shoulder and a cold, 'Know your place brother.'

Pain sparked harshly in my chest, how cruel those words from the one I held above all others, I tried to ignore them.

I was his equal, _was I not_?

I didn't know my place anymore.

I was in limbo.

Not a God and Not a Beast.

…..

Damaged was caused.

The truce with Jotunheim broken with the swift swing of Mjolnir.

Thor's anger bested him.

Chaos broke loose.

Our fates would forever lie upon this moment.

Changed and Sealed.

The Jotun grabbed my arm.

Breath halted, fearing the terrible sting of frostbite.

It never came.

My eyes widen when I saw what replaced it.

The slow creeping of Jotun flesh over my skin.

I wasn't of Asgardian blood.

How strange my first thoughts should be, _Thor is not my brother!_

How strange the combination of self-loathing and joy I felt.

I killed the messenger.

…..

I was alone.

Wasn't I always?

As we grew older Thor grew father apart.

I knew not what to say to him.

Thor favored battle.

I favored Magic.

He a strong oak.

I a small sapling.

He favored adventures.

I? A good book.

We grew apart.

Our conversations?

Tortured.

Our differences? So very apparent.

I resorted to mischief and sarcastic insult to gain his attentions and laughter.

It wasn't how I wanted it.

But it was the only way to achieve it.

Thor so very close, yet untouchable.

I was alone.

Thor turned to maidens.

Flirting. Kissing. Pawing.

And although I knew it was unwarranted the bitter seed of jealousy wormed its way into my heart.

I wanted Thor to myself.

Something I would never have.

Our brief tryst, only known by me. Never to be spoken of. Something to be kept hidden behind locked doors. Hidden beneath profound humiliation.

_I was alone._

Thor was banished.

Odin was in the Odin-Sleep.

I was alone with blue ink and false skin.

…

I never wanted the throne.

I may have wanted the would-be king.

But never the throne.

It felt so hollow.

Meaningless.

They hated me.

How had I never detected the scorn their voices carried?

The people I thought my friends, hated me.

They knelt begging for Thor's return.

Their voices laced with odium filled venom.

_Why did it please me so?_

…..

Darkness.

Suffocated me.

I dreamed of Thor.

Of Our Lovemaking.

The scrape of beard along my thin pale neck.

The way he bit my shoulder painfully as he rode me.

Large tan hands holding thin pale wrists above my head as he thrust deep within.

The Panic.

Shame.

Lust.

Joy.

Hurt.

It would never be anything more.

The tender yet harsh kiss we shared in the hallway.

The terrible taste of mead upon his tongue.

And the haunting thought that he would never want this any other way.

Darkness.

I drowned in it.

I dreamed of Jotunheim.

The Jotun's hand on mine.

The tingle of my skin changing.

The tattoos that ran down my forearm.

The Fear.

The Second of Joy,

Quickly replaced with self-disgust.

Darkness.

It consumed me.

I dreamed of his repulsion.

I was Jotun.

Thin, lanky, and blue.

He spat at my feet and turned away with disdain.

I awoke.

Covered in sweat and tears.

It was Thor's fault.

He had caused me such shame when our lips touched, causing me to act on such an unnatural lust.

It was Thor's fault.

He had led me to Jotunheim. Now I knew the truth of my birth. I felt such self revulsion.

It was Thor's fault.

I covered my face,

Ink from the night before still lingering beneath my finger nails.

Breath coming in ragged pants, haunting in the empty nights.

Darkness.

Had taken its hold.

….

I had to see Thor.

One last time.

To confirm anger.

To erase lust.

Burn away whatever love remained.

_I had to see Thor._

To soothe my pain.

It hurt to think of him,

A terrible ache deep within my stomach.

Those blunt deft fingers skimming thin pale ribs.

The thought of touches only brought searing pain now.

I had to see Thor.

To assure myself…

It was all a lie.

Our laughter as children.

The way those strong arms held me tight in the night, when I awoke as a child frightened, plagued by nightmares.

He would never love a monster.

_I had to see Thor._

….

It was blinding.

The white room.

The lone chair.

Thor seated upon it.

Shoulders slumped,

Posture defeated.

He had never seemed so weak.

It tore me apart.

_It was blinding._

_**THOR **__was blinding._

Perfect as always.

Golden hair,

Golden skin.

Fabric pulled taunt over a muscled chest.

Heat coursed through my veins.

I should shame him.

Act on my lust.

So he could suffer as I had.

Azure eyes met emerald.

Pleading.

Haunting.

Begging.

_I was blinded._

My name spoken with such sincerity.

'_Loki.'_

I would follow.

I always followed.

**I could not follow.**

I wouldn't let him weaken my resolve with desperate eyes.

He had never caved to my desperations.

The pain of callous disregard.

He would feel it.

He would know my pain.

The un-want.

The un-want I felt.

A beast hiding beneath the skin of a God.

I opened my mouth and lied.

It was far kinder than the truth.

…

It pained me.

Fire searing deep within my veins, until I thought my heart may stop.

_It pained me._

I knew it shouldn't.

But any time Thor's lips touched another…

_**It pained me.**_

….

Jane Foster.

The name bitter upon my tongue.

She disgusted me.

Her soft voice.

Chestnut hair.

The way Thor's eyes met hers.

He had never looked at me like that.

How I yearned for it so.

_Jane Foster._

She did not deserve him.

A Weak. Sniveling. Mortal .Wench.

I would erase her before his very eyes.

…..

_I knew now why Odin favored Thor._

….

The stories of frost giants my false father told.

How monstrous they were.

Appalling.

Frightening.

Yet Thor and I, young and innocent, would laugh with joy and alarm.

How cruel Odin was.

To tell such tales when he knew of the blood that thrummed in my veins.

It made sense now.

The cruel punishments from such small misdeeds.

Locked away in my chambers.

Lips sewn shut,

The metal tang of blood dry within my throat.

What a joke I must have been.

What fun Odin must have had at my expense.

The disgraceful Jotun son.

_It all made sense now._

…..

I would shatter it.

My Jotun blood.

My disgrace.

I would obliterate it.

Laufey.

His hate.

Jotunheim.

I would erase it all.

Odin would love me again.

_Had Odin ever loved me?_

I would rip it from my heart.

Pain.

I would be Asgardian again.

They would love me.

I would make sure of it.

…

_Thor._

The word that chimed with every beat of my unforgiving heart.

_Thor._

Whose drunken lips sought mine in the moonlit halls of Asgard.

_Thor._

The reason behind everything I did.

_Thor._

The friction of his chest against my back. Hot and Slick with sweat. Heavy and pushing me further into oblivion with every desperate thrust.

_Thor._

His smile.

His charm.

His eyes.

His laughter.

_Thor._

Would he ever stop haunting me?

_**Thor.**_

The destroyer of my plan.

…..

I would kill Laufey.

The Jotun King had invaded Asgard.

With the help of a shadowy trickster.

I would kill Laufey.

Odin would rejoice.

I would rejoice.

To feel the silky heat of my father's blood on thin hands.

If there was no Laufey,

There was no Laufeyson.

I watched the last breath the blue giant took.

My cruel father.

I killed him.

Pleasure bursting in every cell of my being.

_Look at me now!_

Mind hissed.

_Look how far your abandoned son has come! _

….

Snow against pale skin.

The sapphire palm against my wrist.

The tint that spread over my arm.

The cool tingle.

Breath coming in frantic panting puffs of white mist.

_I was Jotun._

_I was a __**monster.**_

I would destroy Jotunheim.

I would be free.

…

Thor, what poor timing he had.

What poor timing he always had.

Time had never been on his side.

If Thor had not been banished,

What would have become of me?

Would he soothe my cracking heart?

Wash all of my pain away?

Did I ever stand a chance?

There was no use focusing on the past.

No, what ifs.

No, turning back.

The past was behind me.

Smiles.

Laughs.

Forbidden Kisses.

All behind.

_Gone._

It was too late.

Time was slipping through my grasp, flitting through my fingers like sand.

Thor had found me.

His eyes said all.

_It was too late._

…..

The Bifrost built.

The branch of Jotunheim torn from The World Tree.

A terrible chill filled the observatory as I watched with blank eyes.

Icy crystals freezing the air.

My skin was pale moonlight as rime filled my lungs.

_Oh_, but my body felt so warm.

Their deaths a delightful chorus of screams in my head.

_Oh_, I could feel it.

What pleasure it brought.

With each Jotun's death my heart beat faster.

Satisfaction.

_Oh_, how nice it was.

The extinction of a race of monsters.

My true heritage gone.

I would no longer be one of them.

_Oh_, sweet freedom.

The chime of the Bifrost cleared my thoughts.

I knew who stood behind.

And yet I still turned to see him.

_**My**__ Thor._

_Oh_, his eyes a sea of despair.

…..

When I was young, terrible nightmares often woke me.

Fiery fear burdened my small chest.

Pained breaths.

And little tears.

I would climb from my bed.

And on light and silent toes sneak into my elder brother's room.

Always a source of comfort.

Always protective.

My voice small in the ever surrounding night, 'Can I sleep with you?'

I could not see his face but I was sure I could hear the quick blink of his waking eyes.

'Did you have a bad dream?'

How strange it was, that sleep was so kind to his voice.

The normal velvet.

Was now a smooth rasp.

'Yes.'

The_ 'whoosh!' _of moving furs was the only answer I needed.

Scurrying with the nervous quickness of a mouse, I rolled beneath them.

Thor radiated heat like the sun itself.

How wonderful it felt against my cool skin.

'You are always so cold, brother.'

He arms wrapped around my thin figure.

I cuddled closer.

Curling around the warmth.

Moonlight wavered in.

Kissing our skin.

I could see my inky hair lying across his bare chest.

'What did you dream of?'

I curled closer still.

Never close enough.

'Frost Giants.'

His hand rubbed my back,

Tracing the sharp angle of my spine, shoulders, and hips.

'I'll protect you. I'll kill them all, Loki. I'll slay every last one.'

How comforting those words had been.

I had drifted off to sleep with their reassurance on my mind.

How disturbing they were now.

Would Thor kill me?

Because of my nature.

Thor couldn't protect me from myself.

…..

He tried to stop me.

Disappointment.

Regret.

So clear upon his golden countenance.

Why?

Why would he want to save the frost giants?

A race he had so clearly loathed.

'And what of this new found love of frost giants?'

Trembling pain was barely disguised beneath each word.

I wanted to sob.

To scream.

To bury my face in his chest and beg.

_Would you love me then?_

_Would you still love me if I was one of them?_

_Would you love me if I was a frost giant?_

_A monster?_

_Would you love me?_

I would never speak those words.

My pride a wall I was not willing to break down.

It was all I had left.

My world falling apart beneath my feet.

I could not take it.

The way he looked at me.

Betrayal.

Hurt.

As if I truly was a _monster_.

I could feel something snap within.

Lighting exploding within my breast.

I lashed out.

Striking him hard with the sharp metal of my spear.

_Yes!_

The look in Thor's eyes.

_Yes!_

Pain.

Anger.

_Yes!_

_Take it out on me!_

My mind begged.

_Bruise me._

_Scar me._

_Hurt me._

_Make me bleed._

'Fight me!'

I wanted his marks on my skin.

If that was the only way I could have him.

I would have it.

I would relish it.

The sweet pain.

The purple that would blossom on pale skin.

'I won't fight you, brother!'

Brother.

_Brother._

_**Brother!**_

_**BROTHER!**_

How sick it made me.

The word so deep and caring from his lips.

'I'm not your brother. I never was.' I spat.

_Comfort me._

_Bruise me._

_Pull me into your arms._

_Tell me I'm fine._

_Hit me._

_Kiss me._

_Make me bleed._

Anything was better than silence that spoke so loud.

'Loki, this is madness.'

Madness.

_Yes._

I knew it was.

….

Jealousy.

I lived my whole life feeling jealous.

The green monster forever sitting upon my shoulder.

I was jealous of Thor—all his golden charm.

I was jealous of the attention Odin gave him.

I was jealous of the maidens who shared his kisses so freely.

Jealousy.

Nothing would compare to the spite that consumed me now.

_Jane Foster._

The Midgardian Wench I failed to kill.

She stole Thor's heart.

But I supposed it was never mine in the first place.

How jealous that made me.

I hissed insults.

Telling Thor I would pay her a visit.

_Lies._

I had never yearned for a woman in my life.

Fire sparked within the depths of his eyes.

How protective he was of her.

How jealous that made me.

Breath halting in my chest.

I did not know if I could take another.

It burned.

Jealousy.

It hurt.

Tears pricked beneath my eyes.

Thor charged.

This wasn't how I wanted it.

I did not want him to fight for her.

….

Jotunheim was saved.

Thor the savior to a race of icy beasts.

The Bifrost shattered beneath the blow of Mjolnir.

The impact sent us flying.

Reeling.

Twisting like a doll in the wind.

_Let this be the end._

I pleaded hopefully.

But there was no hope left.

It had shattered with the Bifrost.

His large hands caught me, dangling from the edge of the Rainbow Bridge.

I could feel the emptiness beneath.

The pull of the darkness below.

Thor's desperate face.

Why?

He could drop me now.

_End it all._

The muscles of his arms strained to support my small frame.

The arms that had held me.

Hugged me.

The arms that had tensed with passion as he held himself over my lanky pale form.

Bruising.

His knuckles turned white with effort.

The hands of The Mighty Thor, trying to save a monster.

Hands that had dried tears.

Hands that had erased fears.

Hands that brought me to the brink of pleasure.

Whimpering. Thrashing. Keening.

Beneath their teasing caress.

How easy it would be to let go of them.

To let go of it all.

I was nothing to any of them.

To my _'father'_.

To my _'mother'_.

And to Thor?

I did not know.

The abyss of space swirled beneath my toes.

Beckoning.

Calling.

I would memorize every feature of his face.

The crinkles around blue eyes.

Squared jaw and chin.

Slightly chapped lips.

Harsh prickly beard,

The color of the sun.

Thor. Always was the sun shining above.

His voice screaming 'NOO!',

Would forever ring loudly in my mind.

I let myself slip from his grasp.

_How nice,_

I thought as I fell, Thor growing smaller and smaller, until he was unseen at all,

_Perhaps someone did care._

But it was the end.

And what a fitting end for a monster.

…

Perhaps that's when it happened.

When the seed of madness was planted.

The night Thor branded me forever.

The night of passion.

I lost it all.

I lost everything.

The rasp of beard against my stomach as he kissed the sensitive skin beneath my belly button.

I was lost.

The animal like grunts that escaped his lips as he rode me to mindless abandon.

I was_ lost._

The teeth that bit at tender skin, marring a pale collar bone.

I _was lost._

The feeling of being utterly surrounded and filled. Soul and body were not my own.

_I was lost._

The biting of lips. The twining of tongues. Breath fanning across my cheek.

_**I was lost.**_

I was never my own.

Madness.

It had claimed my tortured soul.

I lost sanity.

…..

I fell.

For what seemed like an eternity.

I knew not how long.

I fell.

I thought it would never end.

_End._

I cackled.

The noise frightening.

No, the end would have been far too kind.

I fell.

Into nothingness.

Space swirled around.

Black, Purple, Blue, and White.

Blending together.

I fell.

Pain erupting.

Everything ached.

My limbs, My muscles, My bones.

I fell.

My mind twisted.

Memories,

Dreams,

Nightmares,

Becoming one.

I wasn't sure what was real anymore.

The seed of madness had come to full bloom.

_I fell._

…

Shattered.

I landed.

With a crash,

Sharp rocks piercing my side.

A shrill scream tore free from my throat.

I was sure my hip had broken.

Tiny needles covered my body.

I tasted blood.

Shattered.

In body and soul.

I was somnolent.

Weary.

My eyes too heavy to stay open.

I let sleep claim me.

…

I sat on my bed in Silence.

'Loki.'

The sound of Thor's voice caused tremors to run down my arms.

I did not want anyone to see me like this.

So broken.

'_Loki.'_

I pulled the fabric covering my knees.

I turned my face away and stared at the patterns on the wall.

Footsteps echoed loudly.

Breaking apart the fragile silence.

Silence.

I would be silent.

For a month.

'Loki. Look at me.'

The rumble of his voice breaking down my mask.

A strangled noise formed in my throat.

'Please.'

His large hands covered slender ones.

'_Look at me.'_

A pathetic noise burst free from my closed lips, 'NGH!'

I turned my eyes to his.

Silence.

And finally the sharp intake of breath.

Disturbing.

I knew how I looked.

The twine crossing my lips.

Sealing them closed.

Swollen and Purple from the tug of a cruel needle.

Dried blood stark against my pained pale face.

Silence.

I looked away.

Closed my eyes.

I focused on it.

_Silence._

It would be my companion.

I felt fingers on my chin.

Hesitation lingered as I opened eyes.

He stood with a wet cloth.

'May I?'

I nodded it was all I could do.

Silence.

Smothering as Thor cleaned blood from my face.

Expression impassive.

He wrung the cloth wetting sewn lips.

Water seeping between the seams.

Liquid covered my dry, starved tongue.

The sound of the cloth hitting the ground with a loud _'thud.'_

Thor's hand twinning with mine.

Blue eyes averted.

Silence.

Was I really that disgusting?

Calloused thumb tracing my wrist.

'I'm sorry.'

Green eyes finally meeting blue.

Concern.

' Father did this to you because you lied for me. Thank you.'

Silence.

I watched as that thumb traced purple veins.

I loved the differences in our complexion.

Dark and Light.

'I'm sorry. I know that may sound cruel. I-I just… I am not very good with words. They were always your greatest tool, brother.'

Thor's attempt at conversation far better than silence.

I could almost hear him avert his gaze. Smell blonde hair as it moved. Soil, Air, and Sun.

'I-I…. You…You..'

A flush covered his cheeks. Squared nose slowly turning pink.

I cocked my head in question.

It was the best I could do with silence.

'You…look as beautiful as ever.'

Spoken as if one word,

Quick and frightened.

My heart constricted.

I buried my head against his shoulder to hide tears.

…

_I wasn't sure what was real._

….

Hands pulled cruelly at my arms,

Jarring my sore body.

Eyes shot open.

Vision blurred and foggy.

Blinded by pain.

'You'll do nicely.'

The words hot, wet, and rancid against my cheek.

Nose scrunched against the onslaught of smell.

Death. Decay. Rotting flesh.

Thick and Pungent.

I choked.

'He'll have use of you.'

I was forced to my feet.

Pain blazed, radiating from my side.

Spreading to the tips of fingers and toes.

Blackness drowned me.

….

I was so cold.

Thor dropping me into the void of space.

Or had I simply let go?

So very cold.

Calloused palms warmed me.

So dark against my hips.

Tan against Pale.

Blonde hair that smelled of outdoors tickling my shoulder.

The sun and the moon.

I was so very cold.

The snow of Jotunheim collecting on my skin.

I would disappear.

I would be forgotten.

I was so very cold.

My nails, finger tips, hands, arms, chest, legs, face, every inch of my being turning blue.

They spit at my feet.

So cold.

Lips meeting mine soft and unsure.

Harsh and desperate.

Cold.

The cloth against sewn lips.

_Cold._

I was unwanted.

**Cold.**

They wouldn't remember me.

_**I was so very cold.**_

….

I woke screaming.

Heart beating a rapid rhythm.

Sweat dripping down my bare chest,

Harsh woven blanket around naked legs.

Where had I been taken?

I glanced at my side.

Bandages wrapped tightly around my ribs.

I pulled them off.

The wounds slight and faded.

My hip?

I twitched my leg warily.

A dull pain throbbed.

Better.

Healing.

With great tenderness and care I swung my legs over the bed.

Stood on light feet,

Naked skin illuminated by the pale moonlight that sifted through the barred windows.

Prison.

_Prison._

_**Prison!**_

I had tried so hard to escape it.

Only to fall straight into another cage.

Cruel fate.

Ironic.

Locked up.

Until someone would have use of me.

…

How long would it last?

The dreams.

The nightmares.

The memories.

They haunted my every moment.

They haunted my every night.

I could not escape them.

How true were they?

Reality blurred before my very eyes.

Madness.

Kisses.

Touches.

Laughs.

Bruises.

Madness.

I was locked up,

With visions that plagued me.

….

Time became an illusion,

Reality a lie.

My captor came.

Time wavered.

The smell of decay and rot.

I heaved,

Fear raking its dreadful claw deep within my stomach.

'The fallen prince of Asgard.'

Red rotten gums hissed vicious words.

How had they known?

'We know everything about you. Such an angry soul. Shame. Self-loathing. Tragic really. You want revenge. Your mind clouded with confusion. You'll serve him well.'

_Know you place brother._

_I only ever wanted to be your equal._

Anger burned full force.

I bit my cheek.

Metal and Pain tasting saccharine upon my tongue.

I spat at the beast's feet.

'I serve no one.'

Sparks exploded in front of my eyes.

Blood rushed down my throat.

The hit.

Unexpected.

My head smacked the ground with a loud crack.

The pain sharp and real.

The imprint of two thumbs dark on my cheek.

_**Real.**_

I clung to it.

_Reality._

I clung to it.

Clearing my vision.

Let them kill me.

It would end madness.

And time.

…

I was weary and tired.

Sleep evaded.

Nails scraped down my tear streaked face.

Knuckles bruised against the harsh stone walls.

Blood welled,

Smooth against my skin.

I hid my shameful tears with cool palms.

Tangled limbs haunted me.

There was no escape.

Sewn lips.

I was a monster.

Thor's lips on another.

The woman of Midgard.

How I hated them all.

How I loathed myself.

They had forgotten me.

No.

I wouldn't be forgotten.

If I could not have Thor's love,

I would have his every attention.

Midgard would pay.

I would serve the beast with two thumbs.

…..

The pages of the spell book slipped through my hand,

Whispering as I trailed long fingers across the delicate ink.

I felt a chill run up my neck.

Eyes.

Studying every inch of my figure.

The tingle of awareness.

I turned, my sore body protested.

The bruises of the night before, hidden beneath my clothing.

Thor watched me with a hooded expression.

Heat gathered.

Flush and hot.

The taste of mead on his lips.

Slick flesh against slick flesh.

How strange.

I could not place the glint in his eyes.

…..

_The Beast with two thumbs smelled of dandelion and apples._

_I ignored it._

…..

Mischief.

My only true friend.

Constant companion.

Mischief.

The perfect tool to gain what I wanted.

Mischief.

It caused me such pain.

Mischief.

I despised it.

Mischief.

It was my destruction.

_Mischief._

I could not escape it.

_**Mischief**__—my very soul._

…..

Thor always found me.

There was no hiding,

As I sat in the library, letting a book steal my sorrows,

As I lay outdoors, escaping tears and Odin's angry words.

Thor found me.

_He always did._

With strong arms and soft words.

Thor found me.

Pulling me against a warm chest.

So I could cry.

Tears unseen.

Thor found me.

With open arms and heart.

_I would never have that now._

….

_I knew I was being used._

….

How could I still miss him?

How could his presence still bring me such warmth?

Thor's arm pressing me against a rock.

How could my blood still sing with desire and want?

When anger and betrayal had scarred my heart deep.

'I thought you dead.'

My eyes flickered to his lips.

Mead.

Passion.

Smiles.

Laughter.

And…

I detected—sorrow?

Was it real?

My worlds swirled into one.

'Did you mourn?' I asked with disdain.

How false I was.

I never longed for an answer more.

He could not deny what I was.

A monster.

_Would he love me still?_

I would give it all to hear him speak such words.

How weak I truly was.

'We all did.'

Spoken without meeting my eyes.

Anger rose forth.

Odin didn't mourn.

Thor didn't love.

…..

'You give up this poisonous dream, and you come home.'

_Home._

I had no home.

….

The prison with clear walls.

I could not hide from myself.

My shame.

My weakness.

Only for me to see.

I had many masks I wore.

I hid pain well from others.

…

Had I imagined it?

The image engraved in his bracer.

It could not be real.

The image of my helmet carved upon the silver metal.

Had Thor missed me truly?

To place an image of me so close…

My helmet of all things.

Something that brought tears of mirth to his eyes.

Strong muscled hands grabbing those horns,

With tease bright in blue eyes.

Tilting back my head until a fine length of pale neck lay exposed.

His voice whispered close so that each word tickled the black hair upon my nape.

'You look lovely, _cow_.'

My mind was playing tricks.

It could not be real.

_It was never real._

Thor did not love me.

…..

I dreamed of forgiveness.

Acceptance.

Love.

Thor's embrace.

Lips trailing over my cool Jotun skin.

Whispers of beauty in the dark night.

I reached for it.

My dreams vanished before my eyes.

….

_I would never forgive myself._

_And therefore I would never be forgiven._

….

I escaped the prison with clear walls.

It would not hold me.

How foolish these Midgardians were.

To fall for my simple trickery.

How foolish Thor was.

To fall for my tricks.

He was my prisoner now,

The clear walls holding him hostage.

I could erase it all.

End it all now.

With the push of a button.

Destroy what fragile bond lingered on.

If any bond was left at all.

I would destroy shame.

Hate.

Disgust.

Love.

I would destroy my weakness.

I would be my own again.

The prisoner of no one.

Free of madness.

And emotion.

It would all vanish with Thor.

I would be free.

I pressed the button.

Watched him vanish,

Fall from the sky.

I tasted dandelions and apples.

He would live.

A fall such as this would not kill a God.

My longing lingered on with renewed vigor.

_I would never be free._

…..

'Let me go!'

I cried.

A giggle escaped thin lips.

Thor pinned me to the ground.

'I will not. You must pay for what you've done.'

I scoffed.

I pushed at broad shoulders knowing my attempt would fail.

'For what? Eating your dinner.'

'A very offensive crime.'

'Hmph.'

Another half-hearted attempt of escape, failed.

I saw great intent in his eyes.

'Thor. No.'

I tried to escape in earnest.

'No!'

Large fingers found my ribs.

Tickling my childish frame.

Laughter carried away by the wind.

_I would never escape Thor._

He had taken root within my soul long ago.

…

The assault on Midgard failed.

I knew it would.

My intentions—flawed.

Weak.

Driven by Madness.

And Passion.

My conviction—flawed.

_For I was flawed. _

…

I had never felt so low.

The gag pushing into my skin.

Biting.

Painful.

My head forced to hang in submission.

The gag appallingly heavy.

I was leashed like an animal.

To be brought to Asgard in chains.

To face my crimes.

A prize.

How I hated it.

Disgusting.

_I had never felt so low._

…

My end was finally near.

So close I could taste it.

The walls of the Asgardian cell mocked me.

My life never anything more than an endless string of prisons.

Each one different.

Some unseen.

Others hidden in plain view.

While the rest remained literal.

Walls that held me in.

_My end._

I never wished for it more.

I truly had become a monster.

Eighty deaths lingered on my hands.

Blood stains I would forever see.

I had let my beast best me.

_I had become what I feared most._

…..

I was to be executed.

I knew I should feel something.

Pain.

Relief.

Fear.

I felt only a terrible numbness.

…

Thor.

The only thought that still wrought emotion through my soul.

Thor.

His smile. His laugh. His comfort. Teasing words. Shared tears.

Happiness.

I had forgot what it felt like.

A far off dream,

A long forgotten land.

_Thor._

Lips. Hands. Straining bodies. Mingled breaths. The taste of sweat and passion.

Heat surged.

Want.

Desire.

Shame.

How I wished we could have had more time.

How I wished we could have shared so much more.

_Thor._

His arrogance. His cocky attitude. His will to save all. His hope.

How it angered me still.

Betrayal.

He should have been there when I needed him most.

When my world came crashing down.

Tears stung my eyes.

Pain,

I had become so accustomed.

I knew now I could not blame Thor.

If only I had realized sooner.

The fault all my own.

So blinded by anger and rage.

_**Thor.**_

The proof that I still held heart.

….

'Your execution is within the hour…'

Spoken so softly from his lips.

The volume echoed loudly across the walls.

'…do you have any final words?'

Green eyes looked up from the floor.

The chain on my arms cutting tender skin.

'How low I must look to you. The golden prince of Asgard.'

I was rewarded with a frown.

'How disgusted you must be.'

I clung to venom.

Thor must not see how fragile my façade was becoming.

How close to breaking I was.

The havoc madness had reeked upon my mind.

'You could never disgust me, brother.'

'I'm not your brother, I never was.'

'I know.'

'And still you claim I don't repulse you. How foolish you must be. After all I have done?'

_After all I have done you still have a place for me in your heart?_

'You are _my_ Loki. And always will be. Nothing will change that. What you did was unforgivable. The destruction you caused. The lives you took. But nothing's changed between us.'

My mask was cracking.

My voice burdened with the threat of tears.

'_Everything has changed!_'

'No.'

I pulled against the bindings at my wrist,

Desperation and Self-loathing clawing up my throat.

'I could make you hate me.'

His fist clenched, voice finally silenced.

'If I spoke of—'

_Do not say it._

_Do not speak of it!_

_The shame will be unbearable._

_You will burden him forever._

_You will burden your own soul forever._

_You will carry this into the afterlife!_

_Do not speak of it!_

'Spoke of what!?' His voice finally raised in anger.

Sharp and raspy.

Bringing a joyless smile to my lips.

'My unnatural lust.'

Something sparked in his eyes akin to zeal.

'Towards whom?'

'You.'

Odd.

To finally admit those words.

After centuries of guilt and shame.

I waited for his anger.

It never came.

I waited for him to leave.

Thor never left.

Disgust was it, then?

To disgusted to even move or speak.

I would not meet the eyes of the one I held so high.

I couldn't not bare the judgment.

Shuffling feet moved before me.

He was leaving after all.

I choked back a sob.

I had thought I had broken the string that held us together long ago.

Now that bond was finally severed.

_Lost._

'_Loki.'_

'So you're still here after all?!'

I covered tears with bitterness.

'Look at me.'

I mapped out every scratch on the floor.

'Don't make me beg.' His voice paused and lightened. 'Although I know you'd like it.'

Humor.

My eyes lifted.

The golden prince knelt before me,

Hand cautiously reaching out to caress sharp cheek bones.

I turned into the warmth.

Curiously pushing my lips against the calloused palm.

'Did you ever act upon this lust?'

'Yes.'

'May I ask when?'

'You were drunk on mead. Passion highs. I did not stop you.'

My eyes traced the thumb that teased my jaw.

'Why did you not tell me?'

'You forgot. I did not want to shame you.'

'So you carried the guilt yourself?'

I averted my eyes.

Old wounds ripped anew.

'Yes.'

All those years of meaningless suffering.

Loathing.

Self-disgust.

It had never left.

'What if I told you I had never forgotten?'

All air left my lungs.

My head dizzy.

Heart skipping a beat.

'What, if I told you I believed you had forgotten? That I would not mention it for fear of causing you pain.'

I bit down hard on his palm.

The taste of rust filling my mouth.

'_I would call you a __**liar**__!'_

Yet the air remained stale.

Free of Dandelions and Apples.

Panic.

I felt panic.

It couldn't be true.

Yet all evidence pointed in that direction.

A tear leaked free from my eye, I clawed it away.

Thor caught my wrist pulling it down.

Chains clinking.

'Sheath your talons and fangs, Loki.'

Square, thick fingers met mine. Tangling together. Palms pressing down.

'I woke up. Head pounding. Dazed and confused. I had dreamed of you. Or at least I had believed it to be a dream. I dreamed of you often. But I would have never acted on such lust. I would never want to harm you so—to shame you with the want I felt. But this dream had been different. The sounds you made. The feel of you beneath me. So small. Soft. You seemed so breakable. It seemed so real. A dream I told myself.'

Thor gave our tangled fingers a squeeze.

I could see his heart beat.

Steady on his wrist.

The blood rung loud in my ears.

'At dinner that night as you lifted your cup, your sleeve feel back exposing your pale wrist—The wrist I loved so much.'

'Don't try to flatter me with compliments.'

I had become too uncomfortable.

Too aware.

Afraid of the vanishing ignominy and guilt.

For without them what was left of me?

I could hear Thor smile.

'But it wasn't the beauty of the thin fine lines that drew me in. No. Bruises in the shape of finger tips covered your skin. I knew then it was all true.'

'And you did not confront me about this!'

'You are just a guilty as I. Both of us with similar intentions. Protecting each other from shame we thought easier to carry alone.'

I hated the noise that came from my throat.

_Pitiful._

I was pulled against a hard chest.

The contact of our hand never breaking.

His lips buried deep against my nape.

Tears came freely.

I hid them no longer.

My cheek pressed against blonde hair.

The smell of soil, sun, and air surrounding.

'Do not pretend you never noticed.'

Thor rasped against my pale throat.

Lips kissing tender skin as words left them.

'They way I looked at you. I could never leave you side. I was utterly enthralled. The way you smelled of apple, dandelions, and herbs. Fresh and Clean. The way your long fingers turned the pages of books. The sharp angle of your long legs as you sat. The way your skin glowed like the moon. I was lost. Every maiden I kissed, I pretended their lips were yours.'

Tears burned my throat. A lump forming. Restricting my voice.

'How broken I have become.'

'Not broken. Lost. There is hope.'

'For me there was never hope.'

'There is always hope.'

I clung to his large frame.

Always reassuring.

Always ever hopeful.

_Thor._

I would never have enough of his warmth.

It was so sweet.

Sweeter than Lies.

Sweeter than Dandelions and Apples.

Sweeter than Childhood.

Sweeter than Innocence and Laughs.

Sweeter than the secret kisses I had held on to with such pain and guilt.

So bittersweet.

That it would end this way.

Thor squeezed my hand,

His face mere inches from mine.

Breath fanning hotly across thin lips.

I trembled.

Willing the space between us to close.

His lips found mine.

In a final kiss.

Tasting of memories,

Happy times.

Tasting of a world free of pain.

A world free of execution.

Tasting of a world where hope existed.

Tasting of protective words spoken in the dead of night.

Tasting of comfort and warmth.

A world where monsters did not exist.

Tasting of a place where I was beautiful.

A happy future,

Tasting of love.

How could I have never noticed the love that surrounded me?

So blind and foolish was I.

Willed denial,

To not realize this love till now.

So obvious was it.

We pulled apart.

Skin flushed,

Hearts heavy.

I never wanted it to end like this.

I did not want it to end,

For now it was just beginning.

Thor gave my hand one last squeeze, curling long pale fingers upon themselves.

He stood.

I froze.

Chained in place.

'_Goodbye, Loki.'_

'_Goodbye, Thor.'_

I watched as he left.

Broad back swaying with each step,

Blonde hair fluttering softly.

He turned giving me one last smile.

Blue eyes filled still with love and hope.

The door closed.

_I was alone._

I tasted salt from my tears.

I felt as if I was being ripped apart.

How foolish I had been.

I would not focus on the what ifs.

I clenched my closed palm tightly, willing all of Thor's love to stay within.

I closed my eyes willing the image of my brother to be the last on my mind.

….

My palm felt heavy.

Something digging into the tender skin.

Clenched Fingers Unfurled,

Tears Swollen Eyes Opened.

I laughed.

_I should have noticed it._

The Dandelions and Apples, on Thor's Goodbye.

On our _'final'_ kiss.

A golden key.

Nestled against my palm.

Illuminating.

Glowing.

_With __**Hope.**_

…_._

**END.**


End file.
